


thus with a kiss i die

by dia_gonalley



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Romeo and Juliet References, hope you like it tho, literally romeo and juliet with switched names, why am i like this, xoxo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-18 01:41:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9360029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dia_gonalley/pseuds/dia_gonalley
Summary: A pair of star-cross’d lovers take their life;Whose misadventured piteous overthrowsDo, with their death, bury their parents’ strife.Marinette Dupain had never known love until the son of her enemy crashed a party in a black cat mask. Unfortunately, their love was foretold by the stars, and nothing chosen by fate ever ends happily.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! Sorry it took me so long to post again, but I've been having writer's block and school has been keeping me. Fortunately, we're reading Romeo and Juliet in class, and I just had to AU it.

The marble of her own tomb was cold against Marinette’s legs as she knelt, eyes darting, breathing quick. Her own panic was blinding her as she searched for some way to save herself.   
Poison soaked her dress, making her turn to the other body on the slab. He lay there, with beautiful eyes still open, his lips still parted. Despite her situation, Marinette couldn’t help stifling a sob, eyes squeezing shut as she heaved in breaths. She bent over, hands on his chest as she saw him fall back over and over. How his eyes had widened, just like they had when he had seen her for the first time…

-

Her hands were locked behind her back as she smiled politely at the guests of her father’s party. Her dress itched, but she knew better than to adjust it. Her job was to be the beautiful daughter of the most highly esteemed baker in Paris. Kind. Shy. Quiet.   
She was dancing with her aunt Lila and blushing sweetly as someone her father knew kissed her hand when she looked up to see him looking at her.  
His green eyes seemed to grow as they locked with hers. She found herself pulling away from Lila and walking towards him as he moved closer to her. It was as if some unseen force was drawing them together. Fate itself had come down from above and had seen them, and decided they were meant for each other.  
She reached him, or maybe he reached her. The ears of his mask stretched above his golden hair and shining eyes both. The mystery boy spoke.  
 _If I profane with my unworthiest hand_  
 _This holy shrine, the gentle sin is this:_  
 _My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand_  
 _To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss._  
Before she could stop herself, she found herself speaking, words she knew somehow, the other half of a sonnet, a declaration of love.  
 _Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much_  
 _Which mannerly devotion shows in this,_  
 _For saints have hands that pilgrims’ hands do touch,_  
 _And palm to palm is holy palmer’s kiss._  
The boy grinned, as catlike as his mask, as he responded.  
 _Have saints not lips, and holy palmers too?_  
His smile had spread.  
 _Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer._  
The casual playfulness with which they spoke would lead an outside viewer to believe they had known each other for years.  
 _O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do._  
 _They pray; grant thou, lest faith turn to despair._  
Strike that; even she felt as if she was flirting with a lover.  
 _Saints do not move, though grant for prayers’s sake._  
Her breath caught as he leaned closer.  
 _Then move not, while my prayer’s effect I take._  
Her head tilted up, and her lips touched his, and the pieces fell into place. 

-

His name was Adrien Agreste.  
He was her enemy.  
She sighed, looking out over the city from her balcony.   
_O Adrien, Adrien! Wherefore art thou, Adrien?_  
 _Deny thy father, and refuse thy name!_  
 _Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn thy love_  
 _And I’ll no longer be a Dupain-Cheng._  
In all honesty, it was only his name she had to hate. She may have spoken aloud, she couldn’t know. But a voice from below startled her from her thoughts.  
 _I take thee at thy word._  
 _Call me but love, and I’ll be new baptized._  
 _Henceforth, I never will be Adrien._  
He smiled up at her, and she knew she was gone when she saw his expression of love. 

She might love an Agreste.  
An Agreste may love a Dupain-Cheng.  
-

Even a simple ring, when on the right finger, can bring happiness.   
Marinette twisted it, smiling even through her anxiousness. Adrien was coming that night! She twirled around, giggling to herself. She tore her eyes away from the ring when Tikki came in the door. She begged for news, and in her excitement, it took her a few minutes to realize she was crying.  
 _Oh God, did Adrien’s hand shed Lila’s blood?_  
Her nurse nodded emptily, still shaking.  
 _It did, it did. Curse the day this happened, but it did._  
Why did fate have to play such cruel tricks on her?   
_A snake disguised as a flower._  
He may be, but he was also her husband, and he would never kill his own cousin.  
 _I was such a beast to be angry at him._  
Tikki shook her head, but promised she would ensure they could consumate the marriage, some way or another.

-

Seeing him brought back the memories of last night. His skin hot to the touch, his moans…  
Still, the morning kept them cheerful. They lay face to face in her bed, legs tangled together beneath the sheets, talking in low voices full of love.  
 _Believe me, love, it was the nightingale._  
Adrien laughed, and he was so close she could feel his voice in her heart.  
 _It was the lark, the herald of the morn,_  
 _No nightingale. Look, love, what envious streaks_   
_Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east._  
Marinette pressed closer still.  
 _Yon light is not daylight, I know it, I._  
 _Therefore stay yet. Thou need’st not to be gone._  
She hid her face in his chest.  
 _Let me be taken._  
 _I am content, so thou wilt have it so._  
 _I have more care to stay than will to go._  
He laughed.  
 _Come, death, and welcome! Marinette wills it so-_  
 _How is ‘t, my soul? Let’s talk. It is not day._  
She shook her head with a smile she knew he loved. Her real smile, dimples and all.   
_It is, it is. Hie hence! Be gone, away!_  
With a sigh, he pulled away.   
_Farewell, farewell! One kiss, and I’ll descend._  
He leaped over the side of the balcony, and she leaned over, making sure he got away. It was cold for a summer morning, and the wind blew through the sheet she had wrapped around herself. But she still stayed.

-

She couldn’t. She couldn’t marry Nathanael.  
 _Good Father, I beseech you on my knees_  
 _Hear me with patience but to speak a word._  
She had never seen her father angrier.  
 _Hang thee, young baggage! Disobedient wretch!_  
It felt like a punch in the gut. She could do nothing but cry. No one would listen to her.

She couldn’t marry Nathanael. She couldn’t, not when Adrien sat waiting for her. Never while Adrien was alive, for she couldn’t love anyone. He held her heart.  
And then Tikki too had abandoned her, and she had nowhere else to turn.

-

 _And ere this hand, by thee to Adrien sealed,_  
 _Shall be the label to another deed,_  
 _Or my true heart with treacherous revolt_   
_Turn to another, this shall slay them both._  
She knew she looked mad, flailing a knife around her head, but she no longer cared. Maybe she had gone mad. It didn’t matter. There was no other choice but Romeo, and she would die to uphold that promise.  
 _Tomorrow night look that thou lie alone,_  
 _And when the bridegroom in the morning comes_  
 _To rouse thee from thy bed, there art thou dead._

-

It could be poison, but she no longer cared.  
 _Adrien, Adrien, Adrien! Here’s drink. I drink to thee._

-

And now, her love’s eyes were here for her to gaze into, but there was no life behind them. Her heaving sobs brought her to hold a dagger, the Agreste crest engraved into the hilt.  
That was what began this tragedy, wasn’t it? Nothing more than a name. 

_The noise from outside the crypt drew closer and she seized the dagger in shaking hands, bringing it closer, and closer, and-  
 _O happy dagger,_  
 _This is thy sheath. There rust-and let me die.__


End file.
